


Coffee, Sugar and Spices

by Hisana



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisana/pseuds/Hisana
Summary: A mysterious guy keeps buying Kent the most ridiculous coffee on the Starbucks menu and it's a bit weird but Kent is never going to turn down free coffee.
Relationships: Alexei "Tater" Mashkov/Kent "Parse" Parson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Coffee, Sugar and Spices

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, massive thanks to my beta for letting me bounce idea off of her and taking the time to read this even though she's not in the fandom ! 
> 
> **Fill for a prompt : Whenever Kent goes to Starbucks, he only has enough to get the little danish he likes. That doesn’t stop someone from always ordering him a cotton candy frappé with a cute message written on the cup whenever he sits down to eat it. The barista who brings it to him never knows the name of the guy who ordered it, and he always leaves before he can point him out to Kent. One day there’s a different barista who brings it, and is like “DUDE ALEXEI MASHKOV FROM THE PROVIDENCE FALCONERS JUST ORDERED YOU THIS DRINK!” And Kent doesn’t follow hockey, but he’s in providence, of course he knows who the falconers are. That day when he goes home he googles Alexei Mashkov and HOLY SHIT THIS GUY IS GORGEOUS. So next time Kent is at Starbucks and he sees Alexei ordering, he marches up to him and just plants a big kiss right on his lips. :))))) **
> 
> I LOST THE ORIGINAL SOURCE OF THE PROMPT SO IF ANY OF YOU RECOGNIZE IT SHOOT ME A MESSAGE !  
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As a broke student, Kent Parson really shouldn’t enjoy Starbucks but also as a tired senior in the middle of writing his thesis, he also appreciates excessively sweet caffeinated drinks. So he’s been coming over here once a week, to get whatever he can afford (usually a tall Americano and just one small danish), and stare darkly at his keyboard while waiting for his thesis to write itself. So far it hasn’t worked very well and he just managed to scare the loud and giggly freshmen away from his table, which, okay, is actually a win, not gonna lie. The girls were starting to encroach on his vital space, another minute and he’d probably have started growling at them. He glanced at his watch and groaned internally. He had been in here for over two hours and the only thing he had to show for it was two sentences on the Cold War and the influence of sports in cultural warfare, a dozen drawing of plays based on highlight from the 1980’s USA vs. USSR hockey game and more than half of a business plan to drop out of the surface of earth and start an self sustaining farming community centered around a hatred of deadlines and the peaceful feeling it gave him when he saw a cute baby goat. He may be fantasizing a bit too much about the farm.

He was about to just give up for the day and go back to his room in the house he shared with five other students when the barista on duty, some girl he didn’t know, Denice or something, came to his table, carrying a massive drink, covered with whipped cream and smelling like heaven.

“Hey, some guy just ordered this for you? Cotton Candy Frappuccino with extra whip and two pumps of espresso. Said you looked like you could use it.”

What. Also, a bit rude. He thought he was still mostly human looking and really, the mysterious benefactor should have seen him during finals week last semester. He had almost bit off the head of the girl who had asked him if she could use the plug next to him and after that, he dropped his carefully ordered study notes which then went flying through the coffee shop. It was only the intervention of Alexei Mashkov, who was apparently a frequent customer of this particular Starbucks, and who had come to Kent’s aid, picking up all the stray paper, that had prevented Kent from having a definitive breakdown on the coffee stained floor. (It would have only been the third this semester, a record in years, according to the Starbucks’ facebook page). Kent had been so out of it that day that he only realised WHO actually picked up his papers two hours later, while watching game highlights on the TV with his roommates. 

Anyway, Kent thought, you don’t turn down free coffee so he absentmindedly thanked the barista and went back to Cold War Era sports. It was only twenty minutes later, when Denice was dealing with other depressed and barely alive students waiting in front of the counter that he realised he forgot to ask her who bought him the coffee. Damn. Kent had hoped to get the name of whoever had bought him the frappe to at least say thank you. Well. He still had the coffee. Taking a sip of the delicious pink monstrosity, Kent opened his laptop back up and started typing idly. The ten pound of sugar in his coffee seemed to have helped his inspiration and he now had a vague idea of a plan instead of just a bunch of question marks.

One week later, Kent still hadn’t made any more progress on his thesis, the deadline is approaching fast and he needs caffeine. Caffeine and sugar. A LOT. He counts the coins in his hands while he approaches the counter and he doesn’t even have enough for the danish today. His mom’ll wire him money next week but till then he has to make do with what he has. The barista today is Dex, who knows him well and is already setting aside his danish when he gets to the front. 

“Uh… No danish today Dex.” 

Dex winces at his expression 

“End of the month, I get it. Hang in there. You still getting a tall Americano or you’re just coming here to mooch off of our free Wi-Fi?”  
“Hey, it’s not my fault you guys’ connection is way better than the library. And you actually have a working heater.” 

He chatted a bit with Dex while waiting for his coffee, then he went to sit down and Dex left for his break. Finally, it was him, a cup of Americano with 4 sugars in it and his thesis. He’s finally making some progress and he is deep into the difference of treatment of the Miracle on Ice in the US vs. in the USSR when someone taps on his shoulder.

He’s ready to snap at them until he notices that it’s the same barista as last week, Dex probably still being on a break, carrying the exact same massive pink drink. He looks at it suspiciously, because really, who buys someone a coffee and not expect anything afterwards. Kent thanks the barista who’s really apologetic about not getting the guy’s name but it’s kinda better that way for Kent. He really really doesn’t have the time to pursue any kind of relationship right now and he’s never gonna turn down free coffee and sugar. If the guy wants to play this weird courting game and buy him Unicorn Frappuccino, then Kent’s not gonna stop him. 

The thing continues a few more times, Kent comes into the coffee and gets his Americano and, depending on the state of his finance, his small danish and settles down to work on his thesis, and the barista will come to him with a giant sugary drink. The first two times it had just been the Pink Frappuccino but Mysterious Coffee Guy is getting more adventurous. He starts leaving little notes with the drinks, chicken scratch saying “less coffee, more sleep!” accompanying a decaf Latte, "Don't drop that one on the floor" with a Mocha to replace the one that Kent accidentally sent flying through the room when he dramatically closed his laptop last week. The notes are nice but the guy never says anything about himself and Kent's getting slightly frustrated and Denice, the girl handling most of those orders, didn’t really gather anything on the guy except ‘He’s tall with dark hair. And sorta gangly I guess”. Very helpful Denice. You’d think someone that’s a Theater major would be better at remembering people.  
His thesis' deadline is also creeping closer and so is summer break, soon he'll be going back home to Buffalo and his family and he'll have to leave behind the Starbucks and Mystery Coffee Guy for the summer. He’ll come back in September to pursue his Masters of Journalism, but there’s no saying what will happen to Mystery Coffee Guy during those three months he’ll be away.

“Maybe he’ll find someone else to shower with freakish coffee. Maybe he’ll move to LA. Maybe he’ll give up on society and drop off the face of the earth only to become a mere urban legend, a real life bigfoot that people will take blurry pictures of when they’re walking in the forest and hear weird noises coming from the bushes. Or maybe….”  
“Maybe you are a giant drama queen with overacting imagination and he will keep buying you coffee because he clearly has money to burn and he thinks you’re pretty” Derek answers matter-of-factly.

Derek is a junior at Samwell’s University and he and Kent met at one of Samwell's hockey games. Kent used to play and he’d like to think that he was good, very good. Fucking awesome even. But too awesome for the world apparently, since he suffered from a grave knee injury when he was seventeen that prevented him from ever playing professionally. Derek used to play too but he stopped in favor of tennis and under some pressure from his parents, who thought hockey was too violent a sport for their beautiful, delicate son. He still kept his keen eye for the plays and that’s how he and Kent bonded, debating plays and discussing strategies at one of the home games. They talked together for so long that the janitor had to kick them out of Faber’s stands so he could finally close down the rink and that was the start of a beautiful friendship.

“You’re the drama queen” he says, sticking his tongue to Derek. “Anyway, you saw the game last night?”  
“Nah, missed it, fell dead asleep after my Modern Literature course at 8. I’m gonna watch the highlights while I write my Greek presentation though”  
“There’s a fucking beauty of a goal by Mashkov dude, I’m telling you I legit got a semi watching him set up that play”  
Derek throws his towel at him, laughing “Gross bro !” he says while putting on his headphones. “Shut up and let me work now”

He's mulling over his future while sipping his Americano when he notices Denice, the barista usually handles Mystery Coffee Guy's orders, gesturing to him behind the counter, a flurry of green apron, long brown hair and purple jeans. She's also making what looks like a very complicated drink that involves the blending of at least four different ingredients, the use of the foam machine, and what looks like a goddamn box of froot loops. Family size. Kent has given up even trying to understand what goes through the mind of the crazy scientists that create the Starbucks Menu a long time ago, but the thing that Denice is making right now is making him question the existence of God himself. Denice thatwho is still making complicated gestures at him and pointing to the side of the counter that’s hidden from Kent’s view by the giant menu promoting the seasonal drinks. 

She’s too far away to actually talk and Kent’s too busy angsting over life and the passing of time to bother getting up so he mouths at her.  
“What?”  
She glares at him through her wings of eyeliner and, after a quick glance to check that none of the customers waiting are looking at her too intently she starts miming drinking a cup of coffee and pointing to the side of the counter and to Kent. 

He arches an eyebrow. What, is Coffee Guy actually there? Kent slightly tilts his chair to try and see behind the menus but the guy’s still pretty well hidden. He sees thick legs, a great butt but only half of the guy’s back. He pushes his chair a bit further away, only balancing on the two back legs now, and then he can see a jersey on the man’s back and a number and….

“HOLY SHI-WOAH” He lets go of the table in front of him in his surprise and then in a second he’s falling, hard onto the wooden bars of the chair just as he realises that the brown haired man that is now walking fast towards them with concern in his eyes is Alexei fucking Mashkov.

He is already standing up and assessing the damages when Mashkov comes to his side  
“You took a pretty bad fall, you okay?”

Kent dusts himself off and tries to appear calm and collected. He rattles his brain for an excuse, a quip, anything...  
“Yeah don’t worry, I started parkour recently” What. What the fuck are you saying Parson but he can’t stop his mouth. “As you can see I still suck at it”  
“Isn’t parkour outside? And also not on a chair? Maybe why you still so bad” Mashkov is smiling as he helps up Kent so maybe he didn’t TOTALLY blow it with his stupid brain. Now that he’s not busy trying and miserably failing to look cool in front of one of the best ring wingers in the NHL, Kent’s brain finally works enough to remind him of why he actually fell down.

“Maybe I’d be better at parkour if I didn’t have someone giving me free S’mores Frap’ all the time” He grins slyly as he says and that is apparently enough to make a 6’4 russian hockey player blush a beautiful crimson red.  
“I… Uh… You uh...” Mashkov stammers, realizing he’s been caught.

“By the way, Kent here’s your drink.” As if summoned by the mere evocation of a Starbucks Monster Confection™, (and yeah that’s what Kent decided to call them, it fits), Denice pops up, a gigantic plastic cup that she hands to Kent in one hand. She twirls her black marker in her free hand, impatiently. “You’re gonna take it dude? As much as I enjoy seeing you two idiots stutter and flirt terribly with each other, I got a register to man. It’s Tango’s first day and that guy has so many questions”. Kent goes to grab the drink she’s offering him but when his palm touches the freezing cup he yelps and almost drops it. 

“SHIT” He’s almost managed to save it when he bumps into Markov’s chest. Kent can thank hockey reflex for not letting him fall on his ass again but the pink frappuccino just splashes all over the Falconer’s white jersey that Mashkov is wearing and fuck he is really a goddamn idiot isn’t he. He meets one of his hockey crushes, who has apparently been buying him coffee for weeks, and he just manages to almost die twice and now he’s covering Mashkov with pink, cold, sugary, goo…

“Urgh I’m sorry dude. Look I’ll pay for the dry cleaning alright?” He’s already wincing at how much that’s gonna cost him and he’s definitely gonna have to swear off the danish for a long time now…  
“Is okay, is okay ! Old jersey, can wash ! Maybe now it can be lucky jersey” Mashkov seems to have gotten back on his feet after the double shock of being found out and almost getting taken down by a tiny fratbro armed with a starbuck cup.  
Kent looks at him quizzically.

“Lucky jersey? You and I have a very different definition of what makes someone lucky dude”  
Mashkov looks down at him and smiles coyly.

“Is lucky because is jersey that helped me get cute guy phone number? Also, you owe me drinks now, is date.”  
“...Date” Kent is taken aback by the blunt demand and he looks suspiciously at Mashkov. “You want to ask me on a date ?”  
“Yes! You dropped my drink, now you owe me one. So coffee date” Mashkov is still grinning at him but Kent sees a flicker of insecurity in his eyes and outside from his smile, he does not seem that confident.  
“Y’know it was my drink that was dropped. So technically you owe me a drink” Kent can’t stop it. Even when it’s his hockey crush and Falconer’s star, he has to be a little shit and argue.  
“Your drink that I buy! So you owe me!” Mashkov looks amused and Kent would love to keep this sort of flirting, sort of bantering going but he glances at his watch and notices the time. He has a class in less than 15min and he needs to cross the whole campus to get to the room.  
“I would love to take the time to explain to you how wrong you are and how much coffee you owe me but I have to run.” 

Mashkov frowns a bit, then grabs a marker from his pocket and scribbles something on the cup he stole from Ken a minute ago before shoving it into Kent’s hand.  
“Here. Now you can call me to buy me coffee” He winks and Kent feels his heart flutter in his chest. He just stands there, agap, watching the back of Mashkov's jersey as he leaves the store.

And just like that, Kent finds himself with his hand sticky with frappuccino residue, a star Hockey player's phone number, and a promise for a date.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing that, I hope you enjoyed it too ! There's probably going to be at least one more chapters for their first date but I can't promise when that one will come out !  
> If you liked this you can check out my other Check, Please fic or come over [at my tumblr ](hisanakubi.tumblr.com) to send me prompts and fic ideas:


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